Tagged: Royals

The Washington Nationals are without a doubt one of the best stories of the year. And, of course, you can’t talk about the Nationals without inevitably turning to the direct youth infusion that is Stephen Strasburg and Bryce Harper. Probably the most amazing thing about these two guys is how well they seem to be handling the pressure at their relatively young ages.

Ever since we first celebrated Stras-mas in 2010, we knew we were in for something special. Bryce-giving has been almost as good. Through half a season his numbers have him in a rarified group of baseball players and already have stat-heads drooling over his promise. However, that initial part of the sentence, “through half a season,” should remind us that he’s not yet Micky Mantle.

If there’s one thing that really makes me believe that Bryce-giving could become the same annual holiday that Stras-mas appears possible to become, it’s this:

[youtube http://youtu.be/JzbhjzsyvGk]

That question had foot-in-mouth disease written all over it. But instead of pulling a Humberto Quintero:

As soon as Victor Martinez went down, I thought, “well, season’s over.” [1] But then the Tigers won the Fielder sweepstakes (at a cost that boggles the mind: apparently Little Caesar’s is a pretty lucrative organization. Everybody reading this please buy a five dollar Hot N Ready so they can pay the Prince. And here is my obligatory admission that the back end of that contract is going to be a total nightmare). A season that looked suddenly suspect just as suddenly became the most exciting spring I can remember.

If they can keep healthy, and get production anywhere close to last year from Delmon Young, Alex Avila[2], and Brennan Boesch’s first half, and get consistent quality from Messrs. Verlander, Fister, Scherzer, and Porcello (not to mention the newly Dotel-ified bullpen), it augers Another Very Interesting Year To Be A Tigers Fan.

There are still some big question marks. It’s looking like a platoon of Ryan Raburn and Ramon Santiago at second, which doesn’t do us a ton of favors at the plate. With the diminished defensive range and crInge worthy batting of the once-exceptional Brandon Inge,[3] the Miguel Cabrera return-to-third experiment will be interesting and hopefully not embarrassing. Danny Worth and Don Kelly[4] will probably spot start there as well. Finally, can Austin Jackson achieve leadoff effectiveness even approaching two years ago?

For the last seven years or so I’ve approached the start of the season with same kind of a nervous ambivalence. The most positive outlook I’ve had could be described as ‘cautious optimism,’ which I feel now. It’s a very strange feeling to see the Tigers as the projected favorite to win the A.L. Central (hell, until last year, we hadn’t done it since 1987. Didn’t even do it in ’84.) The Tigers have been good lately, but as a typically suspicious and superstitious fan, I’m always nervous. In ’06 they got in the playoffs as a wildcard. When they forced the 163rd game with the Twinkies in ’09, I never had the feeling that we were a legit contending team. Last year they didn’t really seem to have any implicit dominance until rifling off that twelve game winning streak in September. (My father and I credit ourselves for that, having seen live their last loss before the streak started at a blinding hot day game Sept 1st, when the Royals came to Detroit.)

Speaking of which, I am very nervous about the Kansas City Royals. They were rated the 11th best team in the league in the ESPN prospects power rankings (I don’t know if this is a remotely useful metric, but Buster Olney seems like a smart guy). At the game with my dad September First we were sitting along the third base line, and during a lull in the game Royals third baseman Mike Moustakas was shooting the bull with the umpire and throwing the ball around. He was basically standing in the coache’s box, well behind third and in foul territory, and dude scooped up lazy grounder that came his way. Barely breaking eye-contact with the ump, he made a throw off his back foot that looked casual as hell, but judging by the angry snap of the leather Eric Hosmer’s glove at first, it could’ve been shot from a rifle. The lineup is getting spooky over there.

It’s foolish to make predictions about what’s going to happen, and we’re still forty four days till opening. Naturally when things don’t go your way for a couple of decades, you begin to doubt that anything good is going to happen. But the Tigs lately have provided all one can demand of any team, and that’s meaningful baseball in August and September. It will be really interesting to see what this team does in the face of injuries, statistical regression, and the rigors of the season.

[2] Verlander’s remarkable season was well documented. While he was hardly under the radar, I think a brief digression on Alex Avila is in order here. He had a .389 OBP (10th highest in baseball), an .895 OPS (8th in the AL), and hit .295. All while catching 133 games, and ranking top five among AL catchers in most defensive categories (e.g., tied for 1st with 40 runners caught stealing). And one of my least/most favorite things was the sheer number of times he got hit by deflections. I know catchers get hit all the time, but honestly I can’t remember seeing anything like his 2011 season behind the plate. (for example, check out sparks flying off his mask, and him getting hit in the neck.)

Jeff tries his darnedest to be as polite as possible during his unfettered gloating of World Championship status (Go Cards!) while Second City’s Mark Piebenga adds some level-headed awesomeness to Johanna’s outlandishness and Allen’s seasoned straight man routine. Among the topics of discussion are “the greatest game ever”, the woes of rebranding an already twice championed franchise (talkin’ to you, Marlins), Theo Fever in the Chi, b!tch t!ts and much, much more!

After a rough night of Pirate inspired debauchery, Jeff and Johanna clear the cobwebs (and police reports) to make room for special guest, Paul Lebowitz. It doesn’t take long for them to get riled up as they touch on the evil FOX chimera Joe McCarver, Clint Hurdle’s Pirates, the White Sox’s diamond impotence and much, much more!

Jeff and Johanna join forces in what is secretly designed as an intervention for Allen and his anachronistic memory. The three of them then launch into some raunchy debates over this young MLB season, including but not limited to double headers, home plate collisions, “offensive” t-shirts and much, much more… all to make you smile for berry berry long time!

Uh oh. Don’t look now, Evil Empire, but the Yankees probably aren’t going to be successful in Plan B now that the shirt untucking Brewers have jumped in and made a deal for Zack Greinke. And since the only other arm out there not attached to a ticking time bomb (*ahem* Carlos Zambrano) is Carl Pavano, well, that leaves the Yankees… er… in quite an uncomfortable situation.

Ready to entertain creative alternatives to mend their starting rotation holes, Cashman and company have taken to the teeny bopper concert scene. Indeed, a young arm stuck in the sea of puberty is just ready to make his (or her) debut:

We all have something to say. The difference is in how and when we choose to say it.

The nice thing about blogging is that we get to say it when we want to and, with the exception of a few words that our hosts choose to censor, we get to say what we want.

The Freedom of Speech guaranteed under the Bill of Rights is arguably the most powerful right we have as Americans. It’s the reason Orel Hershiser can thank god after winning a game and the reason why I can tell him that god doesn’t exist. It’s the reason A-Rod and his agent can announce a contract extension during the middle of a World Series in which he isn’t playing and it’s also the reason why I can say that I think A-Rod and his agent are both worthless kangaroo placentas.

Around this time of year the debate over what constitutes free speech ratchets up another level, though. Political adversaries regularly find a way to push their constitutional freedoms to illogical extremes. It’s not enough to say you disagree. If you can’t figure out how to disagree and simultaneously accuse your opponent of raping and/or clubbing baby seals, you’re just not doing your job.

That’s why I choose to stand aside from name-calling and ad hominem attacks this post-season and political season. I will not mention the Yankees’ illegal dog-fighting ring in which they set underfed terriers against various members of the Royals’ bullpen unless I have proof. And I refuse to talk about Joe Biden and Christine O’Donnell’s secret Wiccan connection until no doubt remains in my mind to its veracity.

Additionally, I call on my co-blogger, Mr. Lung, to publicly announce his willingness to toe this line. That is, if he’s not too busy fantasizing about he and Albert Pujols holding hands while clubbing and/or raping baby seals.